Eight
by Fenroar Greyfront
Summary: ‘It took eight Christmases to make you make you love me, and nine stupid questions to make you mine. I’m glad I waited.’ TwoShot Drabble Collection MxO
1. Five

Oy…

I am soooo sorry. This goes out to all the readers of _25 Days_. I just realized that I couldn't be committed to that – seeing as I have a crapload of homework every day. Huge bio tests have conquered, and now physics homework has decided to slap me in the face.

Anyways, I can't continue _25 Days _– but I'll keep it as a ficlet collection if ever I have any sudden inspiration.

To compensate for the whole Christmas thing, here is a story that WILL be finished before Christmas. I promise. If I don't I'll write a hundred Hannah Montana fics.

I decided to chop the story up, so the next chapter will have the final three years.

So… please try to enjoy, and please review. I will update ASAP… with your motivation, and completed physics homework.

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_**Eight **_

_**Five **_

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It took eight Christmases to bring two people together.

Their first was in sixth grade when everyone was rained in at the Stewarts' first Christmas Day party.

"Make snow angels with me?" Oliver asked, and Miley looked at him strangely.

"It don't snow here," she said, her southern accent still strong, and he smiled and nodded.

"I know. But wouldn't it be cool if it did?" he said with a wide grin, and she sighed tiredly. That marked the beginning of Oliver's yearly obvious and Oliver-like questions.

The next Christmas, Miley hadn't decided what exactly to get Oliver. So, her dad saved her, and wrapped something up. Judging from the fact that it was in a card, it was probably a twenty dollar bill.

It had been Oliver's turn to hold the annual Christmas party, and it was his turn to open presents. He ripped the envelope open, and pulled out the card. Within it was a set of two Hannah Montana concert tickets.

Miley gave Robby Ray a 'what were you thinking?' look. The older country singer smiled and shrugged.

"Awesome, Miley!" he exclaimed, after kissing the tickets. "Go to the concert with me?"

Although she was flattered, she knew she'd have to turn him down - because of the whole her being Hannah Montana thing.

"Um… sorry, I can't. I have – I have a thing that I have to do that night," she shrugged apologetically. "But, thanks."

Oliver shrugged too.

"Okay. Your loss," he said playfully, waving the tickets in her face temptingly.

The Christmas of eighth grade was spent in New York. The trio had gone together, and their parents had unfortunately been invited along. Lily had been dragged around with her parents, Oliver's parents dragged his younger brother around, leaving him at the hotel because he'd slept in, and Robby Ray was taking care of some Hannah business.

Due to major boredom – even though he'd been able to watch on Miley's plasma screen TV in her hotel room – he rolled over on the couch, to watch Miley comb her hair. Then he said the words he knew he'd regret saying.

"Walk with me?" he asked, and she put the comb down and looked at him curiously. "You know. Around the city," he shrugged, standing.

She smiled softly and nodded.

"Okay... let me just grab my coat – and my wallet," she said, and he barred his teeth together, knowing that was some sort of indication for a shopping spree.

Then there was freshman year.

Right after Hannah's Christmas Special concert, he and Miley had gotten locked in her dressing room.

"I'm supposed to sign some CDs too… good going Oliver!" she complained, pulling her bathrobe tighter around herself.

"Sorry… well, Lily's waiting too. So, you can either sit here and keep blaming me, or climb out the window with me," he said, pointing at the open window.

She sighed again – a sigh he'd grown accustomed to.

"Fine. Let me change first," she said.

He nodded, and crossed his arms.

"Um, turn around," she said, twirling her index finger around in the air, with a blush.

He turned red too, and twirled, shutting his eyes, and covering his face.

Sophomore year they'd spent Christmas Eve at Lily's.

Everyone had been scattered around the house, chatting with relatives, and forking food from a plate. The teens spent the evening in the basement, playing video games, doing karaoke, and eating.

Oliver had been on the couch, pounding the buttons on the PlayStation 2 controller.

"Hey, Miley," he called her name out of the blue, as he continued to play.

She'd been chatting away with Lily, eating cake behind the couch, when she turned back to see the back of Oliver's head.

"Yeah?" she asked, stuffing more cake into her mouth.

He never turned around, but continued to play the game against Jackson.

"Go to the winter formal with me?" he asked, as Jackson laughed – not at the question.

"Is that all ya got?!" he said, as he attacked Oliver's character, which took the seriousness out of Oliver's question.

"Uh, sure, I guess," she shrugged.

"Awesome," he replied, and his character died.

Lily looked at Miley with surprise.

"…. What?" she asked, blushing as she turned to eat more cake.

Junior year then came around.

Jake had come back to Malibu, though he decided not to beg Miley to be with him again. Christmas Eve was especially hectic. The actor decided to have a casual Christmas Party and dance with his closest friends – composed of other actors, and of course, the golden trio.

Oliver sat restlessly at a table at one part of the dance hall, close to the dance floor, along with Lily and Miley, who looked on at the happy people dancing.

"Whoa! Is that Kelly Clarkson? And Heath Ledger? And –"

"Yeah, there are a lot of famous people, Lily," Miley rolled her eyes. She was too busy looking on in envy as Jake danced with some bubbly blonde airhead from their school. Oliver noticed this and sighed.

"Hey blondie! Are you just gonna sit there?" Jackson said, as he came up and extended a hand to Lily.

"Uh –"

He pulled her up and onto the dance floor.

Miley was too busy glaring at Jake to notice that Lily had left.

"Miley," Oliver called, moving his chair over, closer to her. "Miley…" he called again.

"What?" she snapped angrily, though the anger diminished when she saw the slightly surprised look on Oliver's face.

"Dance with me?" he asked meekly, holding out a hand.

She suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty, but the feeling melted away when he smiled genuinely.

"Sure," she said, she let him take her hand.


	2. Three

Sorry people! I'm soooo sorry. An impromptu little driving trip wormed its way into my schedule, so, I couldn't update as soon as I wanted to.

Uh, stephy04, to answer your question (since there's no more to that little drabble), Miley danced with Oliver because she wanted to.

Um, well, here's the last chapter. Consider it a late Christmas present. (Ah, again, SORRY!)

Have a Merry last-half-hour of Christmas, people! And please, review :D

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_**Eight **_

_**Three**_

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Senior year, Oliver and Miley had been passing through, in and out of Lily's house, running back and forth to buy things that made her feel comfortable ever since her latest break up. She was going to spend the first half of Christmas Eve with said ex, but that didn't happen.

"Going to buy her more cookies…" Oliver said, as he held up the empty bag.

"Getting more ice cream. And a bigger spoon," Miley said, holding up the empty carton.

"HURRY!" they heard Lily wail from upstairs, in between sniffles.

Oliver rushed out of the door, right as Miley rushed as well. Both ended up stuck in the door frame.

"Ow – you go –"

"I'll –"

Their shoulders rubbed together until Oliver jerked his through. Miley hissed in pain, as they finally broke free.

"Oh – sorry… I didn't mean to shove that hard..." he muttered, as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

"Don't worry about it. It's nothing… Lily's waiting…" she trailed off slowly, as Oliver continued rubbing his hand involuntarily on her shoulder.

They locked eyes again and Oliver gulped. As tender as the moment was, it was intense.

"Uhhhh…" Oliver managed to let out, as he let his hand slide off of her shoulder.

"Just… kiss me," she said, and both blushed harder, as he leant down to kiss her.

He pulled back slowly, gazing into her eyes as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Again…?" he asked permission.

She smiled and leant up to kiss him, Lily's wails gone unnoticed for the moment – as well as the mistletoe that had been hanging above them.

The next nine Christmases were spent away from each other, due to busyness of Hannah Montana's continuing career, and Oliver and Lily's studying. They'd all gone abroad, and Oliver studied in New York, while Lily stayed to study in California.

Oliver studied to become a lawyer, and then switched to medicine.

Lily took journalism.

The two stayed in touch, though no one could get a hold of Miley.

It was because of this Oliver thought he'd decide to give up on Miley.

But fate would have none of that.

He'd been sipping some espresso, reviewing some notes for a presentation at the hospital due after Christmas Day. The café was quiet, except for the sound of the soft music in the background, and the light chatter in the background.

"I'll have… whatever you recommend. Go for it," he heard a familiar voice say, and he looked up from his papers, to see the back of a very familiar brunette.

He smiled, and walked to the counter, seeing the woman from side view, and he knew then it was definitely her.

"Your total comes to…five seventy-five," the cashier said, and Oliver slid the money across the counter.

"Have dinner with me?" he let out, and Miley turned to look at him, since she was about to reject him.

She then threw her arms around him in a tight hug, and hugged her back.

"Sure," she said, pulling back and he mimicked the bright, wide smile she'd had.

After that one dinner, they'd become inseparable.

They began to date and they stayed in touch when Miley was away. She was also able to get back in touch with Lily.

They'd planned to have everyone over to New York for Christmas that year, though everyone had their own schedule.

So, they planned on spending it together.

And Oliver, never seeming to want to break tradition, thought of what he would ask her that year.

'_Make snow angels with me?' _

'_Go to the concert with me?' _

'_Walk with me?' _

'_Climb out the window with me?' _

'_Go to the winter formal with me?' _

'_Dance with me?' _

'_Again?' _

_  
'Have dinner with me?'_

Now what?

As he thought over the question he was going to ask, a smile crept its way up his lips.

It did not last.

Bright, blinding lights flashed before his eyes, and his car swerved, a hard jerk and sound of breaking and crashing made. His head hit the back of the seat, hard, as the airbags just burst open. The darkness then welcomed him.

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Miley looked down at Oliver, teary eyed, as the weary looking doctor entered the room with a smile.

"Merry Christmas, Ms. Stewart," he smiled, as he scribbled something down on his clipboard.

"Not so merry right now, but all the same to you," she said, as she reached down to grab Oliver's hand. "He's alright, isn't he?" 

"Oh, yes, of course. His car did get totaled, but, he thankfully only suffered a minor concussion. He'll be out by tomorrow morning," the older man smiled, and Miley did too. "Well, Mr. Oken here should be alright. Do you have somewhere to get going tonight?"

"I was gonna have dinner with him," she gave a half smile, looking at Oliver as he slept, his mouth hanging half open, a soft, reassuring snore coming from him.

"Oh, I see. Well, I'm sorry this had to happen tonight. It's really horrible timing," the man said, shaking his head. "Well, a nurse will deliver all his belongings and such in a few minutes. Have a Merry Christmas Ms. Stewart, and don't worry so much."

"I won't. Thanks doctor," she said, now caressing Oliver's hand.

The old man left, and Miley was left with a nurse who'd just come in, holding all Oliver's clothes.

She smiled slightly, but exited the room rather quickly.

"So, I guess you're not gonna ask me your annual Christmas question this year, huh?" Miley asked Oliver's sleeping form. All he did was snore louder, and shut his eyes tighter. He seemed just like a little boy, so innocent and huggable.

Finally, she let go of Oliver's hand, and walked over to the box of Oliver's clothes. She took out the coat, and his pants, but as she did, something tumbled onto the floor.

"Oliver and his junk," she mumbled to herself, smiling, as she picked up a small, black velvet box that was now lying on the floor.

As her fingers enclosed around it, she felt her heart beat faster, and drum in her ears. All at once she was excited, curious, and nervous as to what the point of the box was.

She picked it up and walked over to Oliver's side, as she opened it.

Inside it shone a boastful, gold ring with a proud diamond right in the center. Though it hadn't been dramatic, or over sized, its shine and meaning put every celebrity's own ring to shame.

Her breath hitched in her throat, as she read the golden letters engraved into the inside of the box.

She read aloud, figuring Oliver couldn't hear her anyways. "It took eight Christmases to make love me –"

"- and nine stupid questions to make you mine. I'm glad I waited," Oliver's croaky voice came, as he looked up at her through drowsy eyes.

"Oliver…" she whispered slowly, biting her lip as she looked down at him. "Is –"

"Grow old and have kids with me?" he interrupted, sitting up in his bed, and Miley almost died.

Although she'd been anticipating the question – or, a question like it – it still came to her as a shock. Even if the question sounded casual at first, the impact behind them was just as heavy as 'marry me', especially coming from a guy like Oliver. Miley froze up, and Oliver cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Miley? I'm asking you to marry me," he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, and her brain finally clicked.

"Ah – Oliver –" she whispered, as she wiped the oncoming tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand. "Um, sorry, I can't. I have something I have to do," she said with a slight smile, and Oliver seemed slightly taken aback – before he remembered the familiar response from years and years back. "Of course I will, you donut!" she exclaimed, and he reflexively pushed himself up off of the bed, sitting as tall as he could, and threw his arms around her, and pulled her down to kiss her.

He pulled back slightly, and with one hand, flipped the box still in Miley's hand, open, pulled the ring out of the box, and slipped it onto her ring finger, never breaking eye contact with her.

And, again, they kissed, as he entwined fingers with hers, the cool feel of the band of gold rubbing against his own fingers.

That Christmas turned quite busy after Oliver left the hospital. Due to their suddenly full schedule, Miley never acknowledged the letters that had been engraved within the ring until much later.

Inscribed in capital letters, within the ring she wore, was a word normally not romantic, but in this case, extremely significant:

'_Eight.' _


End file.
